Attack of the Armada
This asshole gringo (no offense to any of you and half of me) backed into me as I was leaving CD Warehouse. I was on my bike. He was driving the aircraft carrier of non-Hummer SUV's, the Nissan Pathfinder Armada. This vehicle is one I already had enough hate for that it contributed to a breakup about a year ago.
"That car is SO cool. You could really show everyone else on the road who's boss. Nobody would screw around with me if I had one of those." That's what the car said to me, and is strikingly similar to what she said.
Back to Hamburger Hill, already in progress...
He LOOKED RIGHT FUCKING AT ME and just plowed backward into me on slick pavement.
I had caught myself on my left hand, and the damage was mostly reserved for the dignity of the United States and some of my muscles pulled. Scrapes on my knee and elbow were minor. The abrupt jamming of my arm up into my shoulder socket was the worst part of it all.
As I got up quickly to prevent him from backing over me completely, he rolled down his window, asked if I was okay, and then sped off before I answered, saying I "should watch where [I'm] going." He had backed in the direction I was going, knocking my bike's front tire from underneath me, and then drove off behind me. Through the rain, and once he was already turning out (when I got a chance to look up), he was plate-invisible.
Our delightful gentleman was a middle-aged man in the throes of a Mid-Life Crisis on Infinite Earths, and had the Penis from Smallville (minus superpowers) from the way he conducted himself.
He had a Bush/Cheney 04 sticker on his back window too. Deli-fresh delicious.
"That car is SO cool. You could really show everyone else on the road who's boss. Nobody would screw around with me if I had one of those." That's what the car said to me, and is strikingly similar to what she said.
Back to Hamburger Hill, already in progress...
He LOOKED RIGHT FUCKING AT ME and just plowed backward into me on slick pavement.
I had caught myself on my left hand, and the damage was mostly reserved for the dignity of the United States and some of my muscles pulled. Scrapes on my knee and elbow were minor. The abrupt jamming of my arm up into my shoulder socket was the worst part of it all.
As I got up quickly to prevent him from backing over me completely, he rolled down his window, asked if I was okay, and then sped off before I answered, saying I "should watch where [I'm] going." He had backed in the direction I was going, knocking my bike's front tire from underneath me, and then drove off behind me. Through the rain, and once he was already turning out (when I got a chance to look up), he was plate-invisible.
Our delightful gentleman was a middle-aged man in the throes of a Mid-Life Crisis on Infinite Earths, and had the Penis from Smallville (minus superpowers) from the way he conducted himself.
He had a Bush/Cheney 04 sticker on his back window too. Deli-fresh delicious.